


Not A Monster

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x22, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Season 9, Stairway to Heaven, post 9x22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel goes to Dean in the aftermath of 9x22 "Stairway to Heaven" and definitely unplanned events take place. Minor spoilers for this episode and series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not A Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched the episode and had this idea. It was just gone 3am in the UK but I couldn't resist writing it! I rarely write Supernatural, and this is my first written Destiel and published explicit stuff, so please bear that in mind if you see anything slightly wrong or OOC. Thank you!

Gadreel survived. Just. Thanks to Castiel, of course. He left soon after.

Sam went to his room and Dean went to his, the air so thick with unsaid things that even the inevitable argument wasn't ready to happen yet, and Castiel sat awkwardly at the table in the main room of the bunker for a while, unsure of how to proceed. He could feel the grace burning him up from the inside, could feel his life ebbing away slowly but surely, and he watched as he curled his own hand up into a fist where it rested on the table top. 

_Dean_.

He'd chosen Dean, chosen him over his army of angels, over his own. Castiel was fooling himself if he ever thought that, besides Dean and Sam and perhaps a few others, he would have made the same choice for anyone else. Castiel was many things but he certainly wasn't innocent or incapable of making harsh choices for the sake of the greater good, but Dean and certainly Sam as well, always came first to him, and always would. They were family.

_Dean, Dean, Dean._

Castiel stood and made his way to Dean's room, slightly apprehensively at first. When he came face to face with the door, his confidence grew a little. He found the door unlocked and let himself in after knocking twice and not giving enough time for a response. 

“Cas?” came Dean's sullen voice from the bed where the younger man sat with his knees drawn to his chest in a very childlike manner. Castiel cocked his head to the left at that, curious but silent about it. “What are you doing in here?”

“I...” Castiel started, the nervousness creeping back. “I came to see if you were...alright.”

Dean scoffed and settled on his side, facing away from Castiel. “Thanks man, but I don't need babysitting. Did Sam send you? If he did, you can tell him to kiss my ass.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and sighed, sitting tensely on the edge of the bed behind where Dean was lying. “Sam didn't send me, and I'm not here to babysit you. I'm here out of pure concern for a friend.”

“I kinda don't deserve that right now, don't you think?” Dean said quietly, not turning around, not even when he felt the bed dip as Castiel moved to lie beside him on his back. The hairs on the back of his neck did, however, stand on end, and the room seemed to get a little warmer.

“What happened back then wasn't you, Dean. It was the mark, the blade. It's changing you,” Castiel began, and when he heard no protests from Dean, he continued. “I fear it will gain full control of you and you won't be able to stop yourself. You can't let that happen. Sam tells me he's tried to warn you multiple times and you've refused to listen, but you must listen now. _Please._ ”

Dean unconsciously flexed the arm that bore the mark of Cain, swallowing heavily. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, then whispered, “I'm a monster, Cas. I'm a freakin' monster.”

Of all the things Castiel had ever heard Dean Winchester say, that was one of them that hurt the most to hear. In fact, it was like having an Angel blade driven through his chest, and he found himself reaching out without even making a conscious decision to do so. His hand came to rest on Dean's arm and his fingers slowly closed around it, strong and safe. “No,” he said simply. “No.”

At that, Dean seemed to become a little angry, if anything, flipping over to face Castiel, blinking for a moment at how unexpectedly close they became. Castiel's lack of awareness for personal space was still very much intact, he noted. The bloodlust and the raw power was, for the moment, at bay, which was getting rarer and rarer by the hour, but Dean was still angry. Angry at Castiel's persistent faith in him, his constant friendship, his devotion to their _family._

“You're not a monster, Dean. This. Isn't. You.”

The anger was getting stronger, and Dean could feel the energy bubbling beneath his skin, making it crawl. His face was twitching, threatening to contort into a menacing snarl, and his hands clenched and unclenched, the ache to hold the blade again building and building. 

Castiel didn't release his grip on Dean's arm. Instead, he brought his other hand to Dean's other arm and gripped that one too, willing him with all his heart to listen. “THIS. ISN'T. YOU!” he said louder, face millimetres from Dean's, their noses almost touching, and as he sensed Dean about to fight his way from his grip, he did the only thing he could think to do.

He closed the distance between them and kissed Dean soundly on the lips.

Dean, who had briefly begun to struggle against Castiel, slowly backed down as his eyes fell shut. The power surging through his veins settled somewhat, silenced by Castiel's affections, and his mind quietened once more, the only thing remaining inside it being the texture of his friend's lips and the angle of which they were firmly pressed against his own. It was a sense of calm Dean hadn't been able to achieve ever since he'd gotten the mark, and he almost frowned at the loss when Castiel gently broke the kiss. 

“Dean, I...” he began, attempting to explain away his actions, but Dean was having none of it.

“Shut up, just shut up,” he said sternly before quickly leaning in and resealing his lips over Castiel's. Castiel's eyes widened in shock but he quickly melted into it, eyelashes splayed against his skin when he closed his eyes. Dean's arms were suddenly around him, clutching desperately, holding on for dear life, and Castiel could only hold onto Dean in return, fingers gripping his plaid shirt so tight he was sure his knuckles went white. Dean kissed him over and over and it was dizzying to feel his rough stubble against Castiel's smoother skin and the sweet tang of human lips - _Dean's_ human lips - on his.

Dean murmured “Cas” breathlessly against Castiel's mouth, and the Angel wanted to reply but he couldn't because his mind was too busy trying to process what was happening, so Dean returned to just kissing him, sure of the fact that he wasn't going to be stopped any time soon. He brought his calloused hands up and gripped his friend's face in them, the action making it easier to kiss harder and fuller and pull Castiel _closer, closer, closer_. He wanted to bask in him, scream with the things he made him feel, tangle himself up in body, mind and soul with Castiel and never fucking leave and _God_ , was it maddening. So maddening. 

“Dean,” Castiel finally managed to gasp out, and that spurred Dean on, giving Castiel a bruising kiss in response. The kiss earned a deep, guttural groan from the Angel that shot straight to Dean's groin, and Castiel couldn't deny the effects the whole thing was having on him either if the bulge in his suit trousers was anything to go by. He groaned again when Dean shoved a leg roughly between his.

The hunter moved in close and brought his lips to Castiel's ear, running his tongue around the shell. “Want you, Cas,” he said in a low voice, trailing his hot mouth along Castiel's jaw until he reached his lips again. “ _Need_ you,” he practically growled against them before claiming those perfect lips for his own in a searing kiss, and had Castiel been standing, his legs would have buckled and he'd have ended up in a weak mess on the floor, completely at Dean Winchester's mercy.  


“Yes,” Castiel conceded, and Dean was lost.

He pinned Castiel below him and settled over his thighs, bringing Castiel's legs to wrap around his waist as he leaned down to catch the Angel's mouth roughly with his own. Castiel's arms were next to his head against the pillows, keeping them there even after Dean had stopped pinning them in favour of moving his hands lower, beginning to unbutton his white shirt. As each inch of skin was revealed, Dean's hungry mouth devoured it. Castiel felt those kisses like burns and oh, did he wish they could scar him forever.

The shirt was quickly shed, Castiel hurriedly shrugging out of it so Dean could toss it to the floor and then make haste of his own. When they met again, top halves bare, it scorched them both and nails scratched at skin as they both pulled the other closer still. Hips rocked together and teeth bit at lips and it wasn't enough. 

“I-” Castiel attempted against the onslaught of kisses. “I believe it would be beneficial to remove our pants, now,” he offered brokenly, voice shaky and uneven.

Dean laughed darkly against his lips and complied, unable to get their trousers off fast enough. He went ahead and shed their underwear too, figuring there was really no need for the extra delay. He yanked off their socks, because he'd be damned if their first time together was going to be with socks on, and returned to his position over Castiel, allowing himself a more tender moment to smooth back the Angel's dark hair from his forehead before resuming his urgent kisses.

Unexpectedly, Castiel quite literally flipped the situation, using his frequently underestimated strength to pin Dean below him. “Let me,” he said simply, and Dean watched him with eyes full of curiosity and want and lust. The Angel wanted to aid Dean, soothe him, learn him, and he began dropping open-mouthed kisses down the younger man's chest. He reached his navel and circled his tongue around the edge, watching Dean's face carefully for reactions, satisfied when his head dropped back heavily against the pillows and his mouth released a small gasp. Further down his lips went, kisses dropped to prominent hip bones and fleshy inner thighs, and finally his rough mouth came tenderly into contact with Dean's hardened cock, starting at the base.

“Cas!” Dean gasped, hands gripping the bedsheets tightly. 

Dean's words were sweet encouragement and Castiel let the flat of his tongue lick upwards from base to tip before slowly circling around the head. The taste was odd but not unpleasantly so, but Castiel found himself quickly accustomed and craving more. Carefully, he lowered his mouth over Dean, sucking just the head at first before taking more of him in.

It felt _heavenly_. Dean brought a hand up to tangle in that gorgeous head of hair, allowing himself the pleasure of the sight of Castiel's head obscenely settled between his legs. It sent jolts of pleasure rippling through him and he wanted that mouth everywhere all at once. Who _knew_ Castiel's tongue could do the things it was doing, but he was fucking glad it could. “ _Cas_ ,” he moaned when the Angel began sucking harder and the nails of the hand that wasn't pumping the base of his cock dug into his hip. “Let me fuck you,” he whispered.

Castiel slowly lifted his mouth away, a string of saliva still connecting his mouth to Dean's cock until he wiped at his lower lip with the back of his hand. Dean let his eyes trail up and down Castiel's body where he was knelt in front of him, from the swollen penis between his legs to the rosy tint of his chest and the blush slowly spreading across his cheeks because of Dean's choice of words.

“Do you have the...necessary items?” Castiel inquired, raising an eyebrow, and Dean just smirked. “Of course you do,” he answered himself.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Dean said with a wink, retrieving the condom and lube from his bedside drawer. “On your back,” he then ordered, and Castiel complied instantly, getting impossibly harder when Dean bent his legs and spread them wide.

Dean made sure to properly prepare Castiel despite the burning urge to fuck him senseless without any preparation at all. He'd keep what little patience he had intact for the sake of Castiel's comfort, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. His hands were attentive and kind, careful and soothing, and it wasn't until Castiel insisted “I'm ready, Dean” that he stopped and rolled a condom onto himself before slicking that up with lubricant too. He placed the tip of his length against Castiel's entrance, but Castiel had different plans.

“Wait,” he murmured, and once again switched their positions, moving from his lounged position on his back to poised on his hands and knees with his ass on sweet display for the hunter to admire. It was mind-blowingly obscene, seeing Castiel open and bare right there for the taking, gloriously presenting himself. “Now you can fuck me,” he said lowly in his gravelly voice that nearly sent Dean over the edge by itself.

Lining himself up, Dean let the fronts of his thighs collide with the backs of Castiel's, his hips moulding perfectly against the slight curve of the Angel's backside. When Dean sank into the tight, hot heat of him, he almost came there and then, throwing his head back and parting his lips slightly, his tongue darting out to wet them where they'd gone considerably dry. He let his hands grip Castiel by the hips and then the needy pace they'd built up whilst kissing and undressing returned, Dean pulling out only to pound home again and again. The hasty speed was occasionally broken up with deep, lazy thrusts and, each time Dean was buried to the hilt, he'd finish with an achingly slow roll of his hips before the pace picked up again. 

Castiel's arms wobbled with the effort of keeping himself propped up, but soon that was overtaken by the blinding ecstasy coursing through his body. His head hung until Dean reached out and grasped his hair, yanking it roughly back and earning a groan. Castiel could feel everything separately and all at once – the tight grip on his waist, the hard cock thrusting into him, the fingers curled into his hair and the palm flat against his head – and his orgasm hit him with a force that finally caused his arms to betray him. 

“Fuck, _Cas_ ,” Dean yelled, drawing out the 'a' and coming inside of Castiel, cock pulsing. He slowed down his thrusts, riding out wave after wave of pleasure, until he finally stilled. 

After a few moments, he pulled out, aware of the wince that came from Castiel. He got rid of the condom and fetched a couple of tissues to clean up his Angel. He was still slumped against she sheets in a post-orgasmic haze, eyes half shut, and it kind of made Dean want to fuck him all over again, but he figured there'd certainly be time for that later.

“Hey,” Dean said, and Castiel turned sheepishly over. He accepted the tissues and cleaned himself up, then tossed the soiled tissues in the bin. It seemed he then didn't know what to do with himself, unsure if he should leave or stay. “You're adorable,” Dean said in a slightly mocking tone and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him close so he could kiss him. 

That settled that, then.

The hunter moved to lie comfortably with Castiel in his arms, draping his blankets over them both. Castiel closed his eyes, content to listen to the constant sound of Dean's heartbeat.

“You chose me over them,” Dean stated quietly, stroking his fingers up and down Castiel's back beneath the covers, and he let himself drop a tender kiss to the Angel's forehead.

“I saw the look on your face, Dean,” Castiel replied. “For a moment, you thought I would betray you like I have in the past.” 

Dean flinched. “I wouldn't blame you,” he admitted. “Kill two birds with one stone. Like I said, I'm a monster-” 

Once again, the power of a kiss came in handy in shutting Dean Winchester up. “You're not a monster, Dean,” he reassured, brushing his thumb over Dean's rough cheek, “and we – you, me and Sam – will figure this out together and defeat Metatron. I give you my word.”

Doubt was very much alive in Dean's chest at that statement but also nestled firmly there was his love for the Angel in man's form before him, and for once he decided to take the nicer choice, leaning into Castiel's touch and closing his eyes. He rarely allowed himself moments of vulnerability and honesty anymore, and being able to let his guard down with someone and have complete and utter trust for once was definitely a relief. He felt the metaphorical weight lift from his shoulders and sighed, turning his face inwards to place a soft kiss on Castiel's hand. 

The fight would wait for them.


End file.
